Page 117 of The Sweetest Return

“You look good, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“You dress for me?”

She blinked. “I dressed for a football game.”

“That wasn't my question.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

I looked at her mouth. “You really want me answering that in front of The Nocturne?”

Heat moved into her eyes.

“Get in the truck, Andre.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The way she looked at me after that nearly made both of us late.

I closed the door and walked around smiling.

She was still taking in the Escalade when I got behind the wheel. Black-on-black interior. Dark wood. Suede overhead. The custom wheel with my initials worked into the center.

“This is really nice.”

“You said that last night.”

“I mean it.”

“I can tell.”

Her fingertips moved over the seat before she looked at the tinted window. “Do you ever worry about somebody trying you in this?”

The question sounded casual.

Her face didn't.

“Trying me how?”

“Dre.”

I nodded because she wasn't wrong to ask. The truck cost money, looked like money, and was recognizable to anybody who knew cars. I was recognizable to people who didn't.

“They'd have to get through the glass first.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What glass?”

“Bullet-resistant.”

She looked toward the window again. “And after the glass?”

I reached beneath the console and hit the release on the locked compartment.

Her eyes settled on the Glock secured inside.

Then came back to me.